She
answered peremptorily, 'No'; and again the weeks ran on. The
contractors, it seemed, had caught her spirit, for the beer which had
been furnished for the fleet turned sour, and those who drank it
sickened. The officers, on their own responsibility, ordered wine and
arrowroot for the sick out of Plymouth, to be called to a sharp account
when all was over. Again the rations were reduced. Four weeks' allowance
was stretched to serve for six, and still the Spaniards did not come. So
England's forlorn hope was treated at the crisis of her destiny. The
preparations on land were scarcely better. The militia had been called
out. A hundred thousand men had given their names, and the stations had
been arranged where they were to assemble if the enemy attempted a
landing. But there were no reserves, no magazines of arms, no stores or
tents, no requisites for an army save the men themselves and what local
resources could furnish. For a general the Queen had chosen the Earl of
Leicester, who might have the merit of fidelity to herself, but
otherwise was the worst fitted that she could have found in her whole
dominions; and the Prince of Parma was coming, if he came at all, at
the head of the best-provided and best-disciplined troops in Europe.
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